


Everlong (if everything could ever feel this real forever)

by numinousnumbat



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Casual Sex, Child Abuse, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-20 18:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numinousnumbat/pseuds/numinousnumbat
Summary: Alex takes Michael's handprint with him to war. (Alex's life between the shed and showing up at Michael's trailer 10 years later.)





	Everlong (if everything could ever feel this real forever)

**Author's Note:**

> Alex enlisted in this story for the angst. Child abuse warning for Jesse Manes. Non-graphic descriptions of war, PTSD, and Alex's injury.
> 
> Title is song and lyrics by the Foo Fighters and if I could recommend the acoustic version?

Not for the first time, Alex Manes wondered if this was it, if this was the end. His ears were ringing and the dust was making his eyes water, making him cough. Nothing felt real, like this was some sort of strange nightmare, and he needed to wake up. There was another explosion, and he looked down to see part of the vehicle on his leg. There was another explosion and he curled up to protect what he could. He put his hand over his heart, and it was probably shock, but he felt a familiar pulse of warmth and he whispered _Michael_ as everything faded to black.

* * *

On the other side of the world, Michael Guerin collapsed.

* * *

Alex didn’t have a lot of clear memories between that night at the shed and most of the way through basic military training. Trauma does that apparently. It had taken him a few years to work up the courage to ask Michael if he remembered the date of when the shed had happened.

Michael hadn’t paused. June 7, 2008.

Alex had signed the enlistment papers four days later.

That was four days, no food, and only a few gulps of water from the hose in the backyard, hoping his dad didn’t catch him between "trainings." When he was finally allowed back inside, his dad made him put his things into trash bags. His clothes and fingernail polish, gone. Music and posters, gone. Books and magazines, gone. All his possessions that made him feel slightly better after shitty days, gone. Gifts from Maria and Liz, gone. (Alex, gone.)

His dad made him take all the bags to his truck to be dropped off at the dump. His dad picked up the clippers and when Alex tried to protest, he dragged him into the bathroom by the hair. A punch to the kidney, and Alex stood silently as his dad shaved off his hair. His dad picked up a pair of pliers, but there was no fight left in Alex, and he watched the stranger with no hair in the mirror as he took out his nose ring, his earring, and took off his bracelets and necklace.

His dad had some of Flint’s old clothes waiting for him, and Alex put on a grey t-shirt and ratty jeans at least two sizes too big, and his dad picked up the last of Alex’s clothes and his jewelry to add to the pile going to the dump.

When Alex walked out of the bathroom, his dad was shaking hands with a recruiter in an Air Force uniform and maybe the recruiter talked to Alex and Alex couldn’t remember or maybe the recruiter didn’t bother, and Alex only had the memory of his hand shaking as he wrote his name on a couple sheets of paper and signed his life to the Air Force for the next eight years.

* * *

His dad had to go to base or something for a few days, and left Alex home alone. Alex finally worked up the nerve to walk into town. He wanted to find Maria and Liz and tell them he was leaving. No one else in this town would miss him. (Would Michael miss him?)

He walked to the Crashdown, but neither Liz nor Rosa were working, and he didn’t want to bother Mr. Ortecho. Next was the UFO Emporium and the Wild Pony.

He was walking down the main street when a truck pulled up next to him. “Alex! _Alex_!” Kyle Valenti jumped out and got in front of him. Alex didn’t look up, and braced himself for a punch or shove.

“What the _fuck_, Alex?” he said. “Where have you been? You missed the funerals and everything.”

“What? Who?” (Please not Michael.)

“Rosa and Kate and Jasmine! A car crash.” Kyle was staring at him and Alex didn’t want to be looked at now, not like this.

“Rosa Ortecho?”

“Yeah, she was driving. They say she was drunk.” Kyle was nodding like he knew anything, anything at all. “Hey, man, are you all right?” he asked incongruently.

Alex wanted to laugh. Nothing had been _all right_ for a long time, and now Kyle was asking if he was _all right_. “Fuck off,” he said, trying to shove Kyle away. But he’d spent days with his dad's "training" and he'd barely eaten and he was a coward and he was _weak_ and Kyle didn’t budge.

Kyle reached a hand up like he was going to touch Alex’s neck where he knew it was bruised from his dad's boot. “If someone is hurting you, my dad can help. He’s always liked you.” 

_Unlike me that hates everything about you_, Kyle didn’t say, and didn’t need to.

“I joined the Air Force,” Alex said for the first time out loud and he wanted to cry.

Kyle had the decency to look surprised. “You hate the Air Force.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Alex said and he ducked under Kyle’s arm and fled down the sidewalk. He looked back when he rounded the corner, but Kyle was already gone.

The Wild Pony was closed, so it was the Emporium next. Alex told his manager that he was quitting. He had probably already been fired since he’d probably missed his shift while his dad wouldn’t let him leave the backyard, but his manager thanked him for his hard work and wished him good luck.

That was everything left in Roswell for him. Rosa was dead (dead!), Liz was gone, he'd told Kyle he was joining the Air Force, and he’d quit his job. (Michael?) He started to trudge back to his house, wishing he had a couple of bucks for a soda or some fries.

Michael found him walking home, in the alley behind the Crashdown. Michael who looked as bad as Alex felt. Michael’s left hand was covered in a bandage, and that was all Alex’s fault.

Michael was saying something, something like “Are you ok?” and he went to put his hand on Alex’s arm and Alex wanted him to, he wanted to feel Michael’s hands on him again, but his traitorous body flinched, flinched away from Michael, Michael who said he _liked_ him. Michael took a half step back.

Alex wanted to say _I’m ok, try again_, he just needed another try to get it right. But he said, “Did you go to the hospital?” instead and he couldn’t look at Michael in the face and looked at his shoulder instead.

Michael shook his head no, and he had an odd sort of half smile, like there was a joke in there. “Don’t like doctors.”

“Oh.” Alex took a step forward into Michael’s space and Michael made a small noise and crowded Alex and pushed him against the wall and Alex had bricks at his back and Michael at his front and he didn’t feel claustrophobic for once; he felt protected.

Michael touched his neck gently, so gently. “We could run away together,” he said. His eyes were big and bright, like maybe he was _this_ close to crying. “I have the truck and some money, we could be in Colorado by tomorrow.”

Michael - who had never seen the ocean - wanted to run away with him. Michael - who had never left the state - wanted to run away with him. Michael - who hadn’t been allowed to go to Albuquerque on the senior trip because there was no one to sign the permission slip - wanted to run away with him.

“I have training at Lackland in a few days,” Alex said.

“Oh,” Michael said and he looked sad, and Alex had made him sad again and Alex only made Michael’s life worse.

“I can’t see you ever again,” Alex said because that’s what his dad had told him and that’s what he had to do to make sure his dad didn’t hurt Michael again. 

But if this was the last time he was going to see Michael … Alex leaned in and kissed Michael and Michael kissed him back, and the bricks at his back were warm from the sun and Michael at his front was warmer still and Alex wasn’t cold for the first time in days, and Michael was running his (good) hand underneath Alex’s t-shirt that was two sizes too big and put his (not broken) hand over Alex’s chest, over his heart and held it there.

Michael had stopped kissing him and Alex was worried that he was doing it wrong, but Michael had his eyes closed and his eyebrows were creased like how he looked in Calculus class before he figured out the hardest problem, and then it felt like Alex was slowly lowering himself into the nicest bath and physical pain he’d been holding onto washed away and then his brain felt tingly and he laughed because it felt so good and it felt like he could feel Michael looking at him.

“If you need me,” Michael said, “I’m here,” and Michael pressed his hand against Alex’s heart again and Alex could feel nothing but warmth and love. He felt drugged, like he and Maria had just shared a bottle of butterscotch schnapps and he smiled at Michael and Michael smiled back and Alex knew that he loved Michael and he probably always would.

He couldn’t stop touching Michael and kissing Michael, but eventually Michael stood back. “Go home before you get in trouble,” he whispered. “No one else gets hurt because of me,” he thought Michael said, but it was Michael’s voice in his head because Michael’s lips weren’t moving.

And maybe that was strange, but he didn’t hurt right now and he’d been hurting for so long and he had to get home before his dad and he walked away knowing that Michael was watching him and Michael loved him.

* * *

Basic Military Training was fine. It was supposed to show an airman that they could take whatever the Air Force threw at them, that they were stronger than they realized. But Alex and a couple of the others had to sit through a group therapy session because they were so fucked up that they had to learn that they had _limits_. The counselor looked bored and said, “Remember you can ask for help," and they all nodded and promised to do that.

(Michael would have been in class with him.)

He graduated and they taught him about computers and how to hold a gun and they sent him to Iraq.

Iraq was miserable, but it wasn’t as bad as Jesse Mane’s house. And Alex had made it 18 years with Jesse Manes and he made it a year in Iraq.

* * *

Back at Lackland - fucking Texas - after his first tour of Iraq, and all he wanted was sex. He wanted (needed) someone to touch him, for his dick to get some action that wasn't his hand, to forget about war for a night. He’d thought about going to a gay club, but he wasn't even 20 and couldn’t get in. Old enough to die for his country and not old enough to dance with men, ha, ha, ha. He got a taxi ride to the other side of the city and a crappy motel - both paid in cash - for the night. It was all of the money he had in the world.

He used a vpn and some software he’d learned about in military training to set up a grindr profile - A., 22 years old, 5’10”, athletic, vers, and a photo of his six-pack - and started swiping.

“No Asians, No Blacks, No Fats, No Fems” Swipe left.

“Noah, 27 years, top. I’m here to have fun but I’m mostly DTF. 2 miles away.” It was a photo of a cute white boy. Swipe right.

Couple of 30-something-year old men, no thanks, swipe left, swipe left.

A dm from Noah. “Nice abs. Pix of face and dick and we can keep talking.”

Alex went into the bathroom and took a photo of half of his face, and then stroked himself a few times and took a photo of his dick. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. He sent both pictures, then “I have a motel room for the night.”

It was five minutes before he got a reply, five minutes that had him pacing and wishing he’d never started this.

“Cute enough. Send address.”

Alex did, and then he brushed his teeth and reapplied deodorant. He retrieved the condoms and lube from his bag and left them conspicuously in the center of the bed. He prepared himself with a couple of fingers. He paced more.

The knock at the door startled him, but he used the peephole and saw Noah. He opened the door and Noah walked in, and looked at him from head to toe to, well, crotch.

“Let me see what I’m working with,” Noah said and tugged at Alex’s t-shirt and Alex let Noah undress him, t-shirt, then pants, then with a lick of the lips, he pulled Alex’s boxers down and Alex stepped out of them, dick fully, painfully erect.

“Complete package,” Noah said and smacked him on the ass.

Hell, no. Alex grabbed Noah's arm. “No hitting.”

Noah raised his eyebrows.

“I might hit back,” Alex said.

Noah shrugged. Alex stepped forward for a kiss, but Noah held his hand up. “Hands and knees, princess.”

Alex did as requested, and he felt Noah’s fingers on his asshole, and then pressing in.

“So tight.”

“It’s been awhile.”

“How long?”

“Since before my last tour.”

“Ah, military. It explains the hot body and the terrible haircut.”

Alex laughed, maybe he was just a body and a terrible haircut.

He felt Noah take his fingers out and he glanced back and saw him crawl behind him and line up his dick and push in. Alex braced himself on his hands and pushed back and Noah was grunting and Alex was silent and they figured out a rhythm and Alex let himself get pounded into and _Jesus_ this felt amazing. Noah was getting louder and louder and Alex loved that his body could making someone feel like that, and Noah reached around and grabbed Alex's dick and started stroking it and Alex came almost immediately and Noah grabbed Alex's hips with both of his hands pounded him harder and harder before finishing. He threw the condom on the floor - gross - but stood up and grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and handed it to Alex to clean himself, and it was that moment of casual intimacy that made Alex speak up.

“If you spend the night, we can do this again in the morning.”

“_Boyfriends_ spend the night,” Noah said with a roll of his eyes. “But you’re hot and I don’t feel like finding parking again tonight, so I can stay for a couple of hours.”

Alex nodded and his hand moved of its own accord to touch Noah’s thigh where it was resting next to him, but he remembered at the last minute that Noah wasn’t his to touch and he ran his hand over his face instead.

Noah flipped through the channels on the tv - all five of them - before pulling out his phone and pulling up some grainy porn videos. They watched a few videos together, and then Noah pushed Alex's knees back and they fucked face to face.

“I’m gonna cum,” Noah said, long before Alex wanted to be ready, but Alex nodded and he put Noah’s hand over his heart and he grabbed his own dick with his hand and they came at almost the same time, Noah pressing Alex into the mattress and Alex wishing it was someone else. (Did Michael miss him the way he missed Michael?)

* * *

Alex didn’t usually have enough money to make it back to Roswell during his leaves, and stayed at whatever shitty housing the Air Force gave him. He would sometimes dog-sit or house-sit in exchange for a couch to sleep on.

He sent some postcards. Maria, because he knew her address. His mom at the last address he had for her. He didn’t have an address for Liz, and Michael didn’t have one.

He was three years in when Jesse Manes called him and told him to come back to Roswell, and there was just enough money left in his account to get him there. Not enough for a hotel room, of course, he’d have to stay at Jesse's house. His brother Flint was being honored for something and Jesse wanted all of his sons there. There was a ceremony at the local VFW Hall and when it was dark they set off fireworks that sounded like gunfire and IEDs and Alex was not ok and he left his drink and his jacket and fled outside. Michael was in the parking lot in that truck of his and Alex didn’t even ask, he got in, and Michael was turning onto the road before Alex had buckled.

“Is it better in the city or the country?” Michael asked, the first words Alex had heard out of his mouth in three years.

Alex was still shaking. (Anywhere with you.) “Quiet,” he said and Michael nodded once and started driving to the outskirts of town. He used his right hand on the steering wheel and Alex could see that his left hadn't healed well. Michael drove confidently down some back roads and turned into a field. The stars seemed brighter at this higher elevation, and Alex wished he could name any of them. (Michael knew them.)

Alex had stopped shaking by the time Michael threw his truck in park, and they unbuckled and met in the middle, kissing. Michael had his shirt off already and Alex took his shirt off and he put Michael’s hand over his heart and he looked at Michael, wordlessly asking.

Michael shook his head sadly. “I shoulda asked Izzy ...” he trailed off but he licked his lips and surged forward to kiss Alex and pressed his hand against Alex’s heart in the same place and Alex felt that warmth trickling through him and he laughed because it felt so good.

“Was there a handprint?” Michael asked. “Uh, last time?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe.”

“Sorry,” Michael said, and he looked so sad and Alex ran his hands through Michael’s hair the way he’d been thinking about for three fucking years and he loved Michael’s soft hair and the way Michael melted into his touch. He wanted to keep touching Michael forever with his hands and he wanted to keep kissing Michael forever with his mouth.

When Alex paused for a breath and pulled back, Michael was grinning at him. “I didn’t mean to pry, but you’re, um, projecting a lot.”

Alex giggled because he could feel Michael’s amusement. “Sorry.”

“I figure we got a couple hours max before I need to get you home, so what do you say you get that dick up my ass?”

Alex giggled again, and he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down as Michael did the same.

Later he would think that Michael and his handprints were objectively some of the strangest experiences of his life, but that it didn’t _feel_ strange. (It felt like coming home.)

* * *

He’d been in the Air Force almost seven years when he ended up at the mall early on a Saturday. He wanted some clothes that didn’t scream Air Force, maybe some color, some yellow maybe. (Something _him_.) There were some booths set up in the center of the mall, and he walked by a few of them, phone, phone, internet, insurance, phone, bank.

“Interested in a Mainstreet Bank checking and savings account?” a cute man asked. He was wearing a nice suit and very shiny shoes. Alex stared at his shoes, and he paused long enough for the man to start his spiel. “No maintenance fees, and if you sign up this week, we’re offering free checks, too.” Very slight lisp, gay?

Alex flushed from his head to his toes. “Um, I think I want a new account, but could I make an appointment?” He couldn’t talk about this here, there were so many people around, people that might tell Jesse Manes. Everyone in the Air Force knew Master Sergeant Manes, it seemed.

The man pulled out a business card. “Monday afternoon?”

Alex nodded.

“Great,” he said. “I’ll see you at three.” Alex carefully put the card behind his driver’s license so he couldn’t lose it and no one would see.

He was thirty minutes early to the bank on Monday, but the man - his business card had said Jason - saw him and waved him into his office. There was a photo of Jason and another man smiling in matching tuxes on his desk.

“Husband?” Alex stuttered.

“Yeah, we’ve been married three years in March,” Jason said.

“That’s nice,” Alex said because he didn’t know what to say but he didn't want Jason to think he was homophobic or anything.

Jason then switched to business, talking interest rates and ATM fees, but Alex didn’t care about that.

“Can I start an account by myself?” Alex asked. “Without a cosigner?”

“You’re over 18, right?” Jason asked.

Alex nodded.

“Yeah, all yours.”

Alex was pretty sure he was asking dumb questions, but Jason answered politely and without any indication that Alex was a stupid abused kid from a small town who should know better by now. “And he can’t get to it?”

“Not unless you’re dead, and we have other forms for that.”

Alex rubbed his face in his hands. “I brought my check stubs, can we do it today?”

“Sure can,” Jason said. “Let me grab the folder I need,” and as he passed by, he put a calming hand to Alex’s shoulder, and Alex took a deep breath.

Jason was back, and Alex wanted to explain. “My father opened a bank account for me when I was a teenager with my first job, and I guess I never thought about opening one on my own.” He didn’t mention the tens of thousands of dollars that Jesse Manes had taken from his account. The times that his card was declined for not having enough funds. The way he seemed to know when Alex was saving his cash and took out more and more money, until Alex had to spend all of his savings. The way Jesse Manes kept his iron fist over Alex’s life even when Alex was an adult.

Jason didn’t apologize or look at Alex like he was dumb. “Sounds like you need a new bank account.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed out.

Jason was typing and looking at the screen. “Not to be too morbid, but who would you like your account to go to in the event of your death?”

Jason’s hands paused on the keys. Alex didn’t pause. “Michael Guerin, G-U-E-R-I-N.”

Jason typed. “I need to check the box, family, friend?”

“Partner,” Alex said at his hands and then looked up at Jason who only smiled and nodded.

Alex used all of his Air Force hacker training to check his account in a way that no one could trace and when he saw his paycheck deposited and staying and his balance going up, he realized he might actually be free someday.

* * *

Alex had nightmares about dying. About members of his team dying. (About Michael dying.) The Air Force dangled a big re-enlistment check in front of him and told him that they needed people like him. No one had ever _needed_ him before and he signed. He put the check into his new bank account. (The account that went to Michael if he died.)

After he signed, he headed to Roswell for a couple of days. Maria had insisted that he stay in her spare bedroom, so he drove straight to the Wild Pony. It was mid-afternoon and he had no idea where Michael was, but he seemed to make it there more often than not.

Maria was restocking, so she passed a beer to him over the bar and then went back to work, the two of them catching up like they’d seen each other last week and not almost a year ago.

“Your dad in town this time?” she asked.

“Nope, just you,” Alex said with a smile. (And maybe, hopefully Michael.) Was there no one else for him in this town?

“Did I tell you Kyle Valenti graduated from med school?” Maria was on her knees talking around a pencil in her mouth.

“It’s hard to remember he’s smart when he was so awful in high school.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what Liz ever saw in him.”

“Speaking of?”

“Arturo said she’s in some post-doctorate program, science-something-something.” Maria laughed. “He told me, but I think he didn’t know how to translate it.” She slid over another beer. “What’s going on with you? Are we going to be seeing more of the very cute and somehow very single Alex Manes when your time’s up?”

Alex winced. “Actually, I re-enlisted. Ask me in another eight years.”

Maria stared at him for a moment, her jaw hanging open. “Oh, congratulations, then,” she recovered. “I was surprised you signed up for the first eight, so maybe I should be less surprised this time.”

Alex shrugged. “I didn’t really know what else to do.”

Maria covered his hands with hers. “That’s not the best reason I’ve heard for serving. Let’s talk in these next eight years about different career paths, maybe careers that will mean I get to see you more than, like, once a year.” She shook her head. “Not that you need advice from a college drop-out bartender.”

“Maria,” Alex said softly. He wanted to tell her that she was one of the best things about this place, that he loved her bar, that she was taking such good care of her mom. But he looked up and saw Michael staring at him, and he lost his train of thought and without realizing he was doing it, he touched his heart with his hand.

“If it isn’t Roswell’s unfortunate son,” Michael said.

“Be nice or get out,” Maria glared with her hand on her hip.

“Fixed your tap for you,” Michael said as he placed a spigot on the bar. “I’ll be back later and you can pay me in beer.” He turned and walked out the door he’d come in.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous that you went and lived your life and he’s still stuck here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex said, wanting to run out after him. “Uh, I have some errands to run, I’ll catch up with you later?”

“You know where I’ll be,” Maria said, and Alex hugged her over the bar and left to find Michael.

Michael was standing by his truck, waiting. “Were you going to tell me that you were in town?”

“Did you want me to send a telegram? Smoke signal?”

Michael pulled a phone out of his pocket and dangled it in his fingers.

“Finally getting with the 21st century, I see.”

Michael grinned. “Get in, I’ve got an afternoon with nothing to do but one of the Air Force’s _finest_.”

Alex opened the passenger door and swung himself up. “Don’t say shit like that where people can hear you.”

Michael pulled himself in and started the truck. “I guess I’ll have to whisper all of the things I want you to do to me.”

Alex pressed a hand to his dick. “Jesus,” he said as Michael started driving.

Michael had his trailer at Foster’s Ranch now, out in the middle of nowhere, and he drove the two of them there. He turned the truck off and climbed over and straddled Alex where he was sitting and kissed him.

Alex hadn’t been kissed since he’d seen Michael a year ago. Not that it mattered because no one in the _universe_ kissed him like Michael did.

“How are you up here?” Michael pulled back to ask, and tapped him gently on the temple.

“The same. Not great with fireworks, and don’t choke or hit me.”

Michael looked at him with those sad eyes. "Never."

“Can we do this in bed?” Alex was running his fingers through Michael’s hair, and Michael opened the door and lead Alex by the hand as they walked up the stairs to the trailer, and they were naked and falling into bed in no time.

Michael fished lube out from somewhere, flicked the cap open, and handed it to Alex. He laid down on his back, Alex moving down the bed, giving Michael room to open his legs for him.

“I think about you doing this all the time,” Michael said, his arms crossed behind his head as he watched Alex coat his fingers.

“Sticking my fingers up your ass?”

“Yep,” Michael said. “Your fingers, your dick, your tongue, all of it.”

Alex gripped the base of his dick to keep from coming at just those words coming out of Michael’s smug mouth. 

Alex couldn’t help himself and leaned over to kiss Michael, and Michael put his hands around Alex’s neck and kissed him back. Alex should have stayed in Roswell to kiss Michael every goddamn day. Alex pulled Michael’s hand from his neck and put it over his heart.

He looked up at Michael's face and Michael was staring at him.

“Ok,” Michael said, and he somehow flipped the two of them so he was over Alex, with his hand still over Alex’s heart and he reached back with his other hand and lined himself up and slowly started working his way down Alex’s dick, and when he was all the way down on Alex’s dick, Michael pressed his hand down on Alex's chest and Alex felt that warmth traveling through his body and he knew this time, knew it for sure, that he was feeling what Michael felt for him because Alex could never love himself in the way that Michael loved him.

When they were finished, Michael cleaned up and came back to bed. Alex was boneless and about to fall asleep and Michael pressed himself in and used Alex’s shoulder as a pillow.

“Maria’s expecting me back soon,” Alex said.

“Tell her your flight got moved back a day and then spend tomorrow night with me.”

Alex rolled his head so he was looking at the ceiling. “Maria is my best friend, I can’t lie to her,” he said. He felt Michael’s disappointment without seeing his face. “I’ll tell her the truth, that I have a hot piece of ass waiting for me and she’ll be very happy.”

“Yeah, do it,” Michael yawned into his shoulder. “Fuck me all night and I’ll make you pancakes in the morning.”

(Boyfriends spend the night.) Instead of saying anything, Alex just thought about how nice that would be to wake up with someone, and he felt a returning pulse of warmth, as if Michael was agreeing.

“Maybe soon we can do that sort of thing more often.” Michael was using his words which seemed like way more work than just thinking at him.

“I don’t know where I’ll be,” Alex mumbled.

Michael patted the wall next to Alex. “I think Izzy’s doing better. Me and this Airstream can go just about anywhere. Might be time to try someplace new.”

“Not base,” Alex said only half-thinking about what that meant.

Michael’s face went from stunned to angry in a second, and he must have kicked the bed in frustration because it felt like the whole trailer shook. “You re-enlisted? I thought you said you were done with this saving the world _bullshit_.” He sat up and was towering over Alex. Normally that would make Alex’s flight-or-fight instinct kick in, but he could feel from Michael’s handprint that he was safe.

(He didn’t need Michael’s handprint to know that he was safe.)

“I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, realizing after repeating it twice in the span of a few hours how dumb he sounded.

“Go back to school, get a job, go backpacking through Europe. Anything but _war_.” Michael hit the top of the bed with his fist, but he still wasn’t scaring Alex, which was strange for Alex.

Alex wanted to tell Michael how safe he felt, but instead he said, “Well, I’ve already signed the papers.”

Michael stood and pulled his pants back on. “So I’m just the guy you fuck when you pass through Roswell.” He opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, flicked the cap off, and took a long chug.

Alex pulled the blankets over his waist so he wasn’t completely naked for this conversation. He was confused and not able to tell his emotions from Michael’s. Was he mad at himself for re-enlisting or was that all from Michael? Was Michael _worried_? “Take me back to Maria’s,” he said.

They drove to the Wild Pony in silence. Michael skipped the main lot and pulled around the back. Alex had so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t tell what was coming from him and what was coming from Michael.

“You’re mad at me for going back to the Air Force, but at least I’m doing something with my life,” Alex said. “Why don’t you try it?”

“You have no fucking idea,” Michael said, his tone telling Alex not to push it.

“Isobel Evans has her life together,” Alex said. “She’s in contact with me more often than you. She doesn’t need you sticking around Roswell on her behalf.”

“At least I’m willing to stay,” Michael spat back. “I’m not looking for _any_ excuse to leave.”

“Fuck you,” Alex said and he opened the door and stepped out of the truck and slammed the door shut. He paused by the wall to get himself together before going in to Maria.

Michael was out of his truck and in front of Alex and they were a foot (a mile) apart.

“You might _die_ and this is how it _ends_?” Michael’s eyes were full of tears.

(_Call me_, Alex wanted to say.)

(_You’re listed as next of kin in my will_, he wanted to say.)

(_I love you,_ he wanted to say.)

Alex took the step that put him in Michael’s space and looked at Michael. Michael looked at him and then crashed their lips together. Like the first handprint, Michael had Alex between him and a brick wall and Michael slid hand under Alex’s shirt and he put his hand over's Alex's heart and they were forehead to forehead and just breathing each other’s air and Alex never wanted to move from this spot and he felt that warmth in his chest that meant that Michael was doing his handprint thing, and he’d just done it, what?, an hour ago and it was too much and not enough.

“Stop making me love you,” Alex whispered, his head floating. He stepped to the side and Michael let him and he started up the stairs to the bar.

“Please don’t die,” he might have heard Michael whisper, or maybe it was Michael’s voice in his head, but he closed the door behind him and Michael didn't follow him and under Maria’s watchful eye, Alex proceeded to get as drunk as he ever had in his entire life.

* * *

It was a routine patrol on a routine day in Iraq a couple of weeks before they went back home for a while. Their humvee ran over a few IEDs and Alex ended up on the ground with the vehicle on his leg. They’d gotten (most of) him out, and he was stabilized in Baghdad and then sent on to Ramstein in Germany for more surgeries.

That’s when they told him when he was awake again.

Alex remembers thinking about Michael as the world faded, then there were some blips of people yelling for more blood and someone telling him he was going to be ok. When he opened his eyes for real, he was already in Germany and Jesse Manes was sitting next to him.

“You’re awake,” Jesse announced. “I need to know the name of every person you had contact with in Iraq.”

Alex turned his head to the other side and a nurse was clicking on a clipboard. “Welcome back, Alex,” she said. “You’re at Ramstein Air Force Base, and we’re taking good care of you.”

“Get him out,” Alex said hoarsely.

She gave him a blank look.

“My father is not authorized to be here.”

“Oh, sure, Master Sergeant, could you wait in the hallway,” she said.

Alex turned his head back to Jesse who was red in the face. “Son, I know that mark on your chest and you’re a dead man walking. You _will_ tell me who put it there.”

Alex wanted to laugh. “You know _nothing_,” he said. “Get out.”

Jesse strode out of the room, and Alex started taking stock of the situation. He reached his hand to his chest and he felt sluggish but he could feel the tell-tale warm tingles from where Michael left his mark. (But Michael was in Roswell and not Iraq and not Germany.) He moved both of his arms, which were covered in bruises and IVs. He looked down the bed and he was under a pile of blankets. His right leg fucking hurt though.

The nurse was back at her laptop. “I paged the doctor and he’ll be here shortly,” she said. “He’ll probably up those pain meds if you need it.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. He tried to adjust his leg to see if that would relieve some pressure and make it hurt less, but it wouldn’t budge.

The doctor came in and stood at his bedside. “You’re not only lucky to be alive, but it’s a miracle you survived getting out of the field.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone as critically injured as you make it out of surgery and they definitely weren’t awake in less than three days.”

Alex didn’t know how he was alive, but he had a suspicion he knew who did.

Then the doctor told him the extent of his injuries, that his leg was gone below the knee, but that the Air Force had the best prostheses and Alex would live a full and normal life. He finished his speech asking if Alex wanted his father back in.

“I took him off my next of kin three years ago,” Alex said. “Send him back to New Mexico on the next flight.”

The nurse said something about trauma and support system, and Alex zoned out. “We have a Corporal Lopez here to see you,” she said.

Finally some good fucking news. Lopez had been a driver at the beginning of the tour before breaking his ankle, and had apparently been sent to Ramstein. Lopez came in and made himself at home on the chair next to Alex’s bed.

“Sorry about your old man,” he said. “No one thought to read your file until he was on a plane here.”

“It’s fine,” Alex said because it was, or maybe the drugs made it seem that way.

“He asked me about a handprint, and I said I didn’t know nothing.”

“I don’t know anything either.”

“It’s a mark on your chest, and your dad was, like, crazy and yelling about it before you woke up.”

Alex put a hand over his heart. “I saw it,” he lied, “but I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I did get ahold of the Michael you listed."

“Michael?” Alex hated that everyone could hear the way his heartbeat sped up on the monitor.

“Yeah, so you didn’t have a phone number or anything and we thought you might die, like actually die, so we called the sheriff's office to see if they could help and - I don’t know if I should be telling you this - but can you believe this guy had been passed out in their drunk tank for a couple of days.”

Alex shook his head. “It would have been more strange if he was an upstanding citizen that was, like, volunteering at a senior citizen center.”

Lopez laughed. “Anyway, Sheriff Valenti said you’d better not miss her _buñuelos_ on New Years, and she let me talk to a Max Evans? and he said Michael was his brother and he’d have Michael call you went he woke up. And he said to let him know if you want him to tell Maria. It was crazy, man. One phone call and everyone knew everyone."

“Something like that.”

“Who’s Michael anyway?” Lopez looked down at his hands. “It's cool if he's your boyfriend.”

(Boyfriends spend the night.) “No,” Alex said. “But you know how when someone isn’t official, but then they’re definitely an ex? That’s Michael.” God, talking about this was _hard_. “Did you leave a way for him to get in contact?”

“Yeah, a couple of phone numbers.” A nurse came over and checked his temperature, and Lopez sat there and didn't say anything. “I didn’t know you were gay,” he whispered when she was finished.

“No one does. I mean, my high school knew and it wasn’t … great.” 

Lopez mimed zipping his lips shut, and they didn't talk about _that_ any more. Alex was shipped back to Fort Sam in Houston for rehab a few weeks later.

He didn’t hear from Jesse Manes. (He didn’t hear from Michael.)

* * *

The Air Force gave him a boring, pointless desk job once he was (mostly) mobile and he hated every fucking second of it. When he got his orders to go to Roswell, it was almost a relief. (Was Michael still there or had he left?)

He got the keys to Jim Valenti's hunting cabin. He sent a text to Maria. He thought about going to the grocery store.

He showed up for his job the next morning. The Air Force was acquiring Foster's Ranch. "Remember where that is?" Jesse asked him.

"No," Alex lied.

They drove out there with their paperwork, and that sure looked like Michael's trailer. Or maybe (hopefully) he was long gone. Alex was peering in the window to see if he could recognize any of Michael's stuff, when he heard "Hey, that's private property!" and felt a hand on his arm and that could have ended with a punch, but Alex's body knew that hand and he wasn't scared.

Michael was _here_ and Michael was _alive_ and talking to him. Alex couldn't focus on what was happening, and within minutes they were in their vehicles and heading back to base. Jesse glanced at him a few times, but Alex stared out the window. 

Did Michael know that his handprint had saved Alex's life? (Did he know that Alex loved him?)  
  
He needed to talk to Michael again, and he would try to tell him, tell him that he loved him. Because it had been 10 years and thousands of miles and Alex might finally be ready now.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally titled this "Stay (I Missed You)" and then they went an announced that they were using it as an actual episode title, ha!, but I had already committed to way too many parentheses.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I am on [tumblr](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/) and you can reblog this story [here](https://numinousnumbat.tumblr.com/post/615252525890895872/everlong-if-everything-could-ever-feel-this-real).


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